We'd stood together, looking through the dark gateway in silence for some time before the priest spoke to me. His words made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

"It's always imagined, that when the gates of Hell are thrown open, all the demons will burst out, like a swarm of locusts, and immediately start stalking the damned and the innocent alike, killing and feeding, possessing at will. But that's quite wrong, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"They'll come in a slow trickle to begin with. And they won't look very different from us. At a certain point, some of the people (mostly the poor and powerless) will start to notice them. Then they'll mutter dark warnings to each other and stay inside their houses. They'll demand protection but they won't get it from the authorities. They'll begin to understand that the authorities are not - and never have been - there to protect them, but only to keep them in order. Those who still 'believe' may turn to the Church, but the Church has become weak and ineffectual. The Church, or the scattered remnants of it, no longer knows what it believes. Do you believe, Mr...?"

"Mr Jones. No. I must confess, I'm an atheist."

"And I suppose you came to admire the fine, Anglo Saxon architecture of our church. Hardly anyone comes here to worship any more."

"Yes. That's right. I was directed here by the tourist brochure. When did this opening appear?"

"It didn't just appear Mr Jones. They dug a tunnel. They didn't need our permission. They got planning permission and nothing the local people did or said could stop them. It broke through to the other side some years ago."

We watched as, what looked like a perfectly ordinary party of human beings, passed out of the tunnel. The priest clutched the cross he wore about his neck. The arriving party looked around with expressions of open curiosity. A few looked our way and smiled. The priest muttered a prayer.

"They look harmless enough to me. Just tourists like myself."

"They do look very ordinary, don't they? You may feel sympathy for them when you hear voices raised against them. They're just people after all - no different from the rest of us - looking for a better life. They've been living in Hell and, of course, they don't like it there. Who would? Let them come, you may say, and welcome. Fool!"

This sudden outburst caused me to look round sharply at the agitated holy man.

"Surely you're over-reacting Father. Now that we know people live in that terrible place, it must be our duty to accommodate them. I've not met any of these refugees from the dark realm yet, but from what I've seen, they seem worthy of our care. We should make space for them. As a Christian, you of all people..."

The man looked defeated. He eyed me with a lugubrious expression.

"I cannot pretend that I do not see what I do see, Sir. You and your kind will have your way. Whatever your political persuasion, liberal thinking predominates. The affluent, liberal-minded folk, will look at these 'creatures' that appear so like us, and they will see an oppressed minority. Having had every useful instinct 'educated' out of them, and lacking any real sense of self-preservation, they'll push through legislation to ensure these poor new-comers are able to live in peace among us, undisturbed in their ghettos, allowed to worship in their own temples."

"And why not?"

"Do you know who or what they're going to worship?"

"Some imaginary god, just as you do, I suppose."

The priest gave a short, bitter laugh.

"God, Devil, other: it makes no difference to you, an atheist, does it?"

"Well... quite."

"They'll keep a low profile to begin with, not wishing to draw attention to themselves, while they multiply unobserved by most, though not all, of us. Some of us - those of us who can see what's coming - will watch impotently as the threat grows and our own people carry on living in a trance. Our young people will be at the greatest jeopardy in the early years."

"What jeopardy?"

"Possession! Most of them are entirely empty of any spiritual or moral belief or understanding. They drift around, directionless vacuums, waiting - longing - to be filled. They will be filled. Believe me, they will!"

"Oh, really. You cannot be serious Father!"

"You think not? I assure you I am. I'm perfectly serious. Eventually, the liberals will notice what's happening. YOU will notice what's happening. But then it will be far too late to do anything, because the demons are not liberal and there will be enough of them to hold sway. Liberality will be crushed. We will be crushed. Our few descendants will be in the minority - and even they will share the barbarous philosophy of these new-comers. They will have no choice."

"Father. This is pure paranoia. You really should think about getting professional help. Give them time. I'm sure you'll come to understand that this migration, from out of the darkness, is not only desirable, but necessary and inevitable. You'll be a convert too, one day."

As I walked away, the priest cursed me, swearing that I, also, must be one of the demons. I couldn't help laughing. I laughed so hard that the retracted horns erupted from my head and I was able to keep my tail and wings furled only with the greatest difficulty.

It was only when he bellowed my true name and damned me for my stupidity that I recognised the truth. I turned to see Al-Daljad, my angry master standing where I had left the priest.

"How easily you are tricked into giving us away, Culbethul."

I am in disgrace. He sent me here, to work in this records office until the invasion phase is complete and our position secure.